Trouble
by Porsheee
Summary: A young Winter and Jacin bake a cake, and Jacin calls her Trouble for the first time.


"I want to crack the eggs," Jacin said, reaching out for the cardboard box. "You got to do it last time."

"I also got to do all the measuring and icing, and you didn't say anything about that!"

"Because I didn't _want_ to do any of those things."

Winter huffed, turning her back to Jacin, though being two years older than her he was already towering in comparison and could easily reach around her. Luckily, she also knew he was smart enough not to tackle her because that would surely end with smashed eggs ( _again)._

"Okay, well, I get to put the sprinkles on."

"Fine. The sprinkles are silly anyways."

" _You're_ calling them silly?"

"The icing's the real treat."

Winter stood on her counter-reaching stool, taking an egg in hand and angling it above the glass bowl they would be whipped in. With a sharp crack, she broke the shell in two and separated the yolk from the egg white.

"Didn't the recipe ask for _all_ of the egg?"

"It's for fun, Jacin! Isn't that the best part?"

"No, cracking the egg's the best part."

"But—"

"I can't believe we're arguing over this."

Winter shook her head, splooping both egg whites and yolk into the bowl.

"Go measure the milk, I'm whipping the eggs."

* * *

One of the royal bakers gave the electric mixer to Winter years ago, in secret, since Queen Levana did not approve of Winter meddling in such things that "a simple servant could do." What her step mother could never understand was that baking was worth more than the product.

"The setting should be on _low,_ Winter, not medium."

"That's where you're wrong."

"Winter—"

"I bake. You cook. You are clearly clueless."

Winter turned the knob back to medium, even daring the pull it closer to the high setting.

"Wha—that's even worse!"

"You mean _better?_ "

"If this cake turns out ruined, it won't be my fault."

"It won't be mine either."

"It won't be—Oh, I think it's done whipping." Jacin took it as an excuse to lunge forward and turn the setting to 'off.'

"Mmm, I almost just want to eat it now."

"Don't you want a real cake?"

Winter ignored him, instead releasing the beaters from the mixer, gripping the larger beater in hand. "I call the right beater!"

"…That's the left one."

"Right- _hand_ one."

"Good save."

"And either way, you get the smaller one."

"Of course, Princess."

Jacin looked at the beater, eyes raising. "Hey…did you forget the flour? It's still soupy."

"Stars, I think you're right." Winter opened the cabinet, reaching her arm up to the third shelf, but even on tippie toes she could only reach its base. "Jacin!"

He sighed, moving her off the stool by her shoulders, standing on it, and taking down the flour.

"You're welcome."

"Thank you."

Winter moved back onto her stool, opening the flour bag. Ginning, she turned around, fistful of flour in hand. "It's like snow!"

And she threw it. Right at Jacin's face.

His eyes grew wide.

"My stars—Winter, _don't you know it could explode?_ "

She stopped giggling, stumbling off her stood with wide eyes. "But it's just flour!"

Jacin sighed deeply, placing a hand over his eyes. When he looked up again, there was flour coating his palm.

"Flour does that. If there had been a spark…Anyway, it's okay now. It won't explode. But be careful, and don't throw flour. Plus, it's a mess now." He shook his head, flour catching the light in a misshapen halo.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry." She looked down at her feet, the glossy shoes sprinkled with white.

Jacin looked at the mess, at her face, and back at the mess "You didn't know, we should just clean it up before Levana notices."

Winter brightened. "So you're not angry?"

He looked up at her, letting a small smile slip by. "I didn't say that, but we really do need to clean up."

"Okay, I'll get the mop. You can fill the bucket with water and bring it over here."

* * *

"Is it okay that we won't finish the cake today?"

Winter shrugged. "I know you have to leave, but we can add the flour now, let the dough cool, and finish tomorrow."

"Right. _I'm_ doing the flour."

Winter's cheeks grew red, and she stepped back from the counter. "Yes, please."

Jacin (carefully) measured out the flour and turned the electric beater back on, Winter too embarrassed to change its setting.

"Okay, I think it's done now. And I'll take the left beater. You can finish cleanup, since I helped you clean up the flour, _Trouble_."

The door closed. Winter smiled.


End file.
